


All of You, For All of Me

by Fenix21



Series: Everything Because I Love You [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Belly Kink, Come Inflation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg!Sam, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Schmoop, Stillborn birth, Underage Sex, Weechesters, Wincest - Freeform, apologies for any missing tags, difficult birth, gratuitous use of the word fuck...again, male lactation-but no kink, mildly graphic birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:37:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenix21/pseuds/Fenix21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam goes into his first heat unexpectedly while the boys are stranded alone miles from anywhere, and Dean has to take measures into his own hands to help Sam through it. Life, love, and tragedy ensue.</p><p>NOTE: I'm not fond of dub/con, so you won't really find much of that here if that's what you're looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first stab at a 'knotting' fic, so I apologize up front for any glaring errors. I generally don't go in for this sort of thing, especially dub/con, so you won't find a whole lot of that here. I found my appeal in the undeniable need for sexual satisfaction felt between the pair and the fierce possessive/protective instincts of the Alpha toward his chosen Omega. Also, it's a fantastic excuse to write really, really hot porn and a heavy hitting birth scene, so...there you go. Enjoy.

“Sammy!” Dean banged on the bedroom door for the fourth time, jimmied the locked knob. “Get your ass out here and eat.”

It wasn’t like Dean couldn’t have just put his shoulder in the door, and it wouldn’t have given under little or no pressure, but he didn’t want to force Sam into anything he didn’t have to right now, either. The kid had been moody lately, moodier than usual, and Dean knew it had something to do—probably a lot to do—with his as yet un-presented status. Most kids his age had presented at least, and a lot of them were already mated and bonded. Sam was getting itchy and antsy and Dean wondered, not for the first time if all of John’s moving them around didn’t have something to do with Sam blooming so late.

Dean had presented at eleven as an Alpha, but Alphas had little problem working around the inconveniences presented them by society and life, it was part of what made them Alpha. So, that probably wasn’t helping Sam either knowing that his older brother had been firmly settled into his place in the world long before Sam even had any idea what his place was supposed to be, which in turn kind of gave Dean a hint at what Sam was going to present as, but he’d kept his mouth shut so far, not wanting to trip another of Sam’s innumerable bitch-fits or Dad’s anger at making any assumptions about his youngest son. 

The only reason Dean was bothering standing in front of the locked bedroom door right now was because Sam hadn’t been out of the room all day. He’d come in last night from an extra training session, on Dad’s orders before he’d left town, in a fouler than foul mood, eaten a few forkfuls off his plate and then suddenly and without warning lunged from the table and locked himself in the bedroom. Dean had tried to get him to let him in last night so that he could sleep, but Sam hadn’t answered and rather than wake the kid if he was sleeping, or risk a raging tantrum, Dean just crashed on the couch.

But enough was enough.

The kid was growing—fast, and he needed to eat. It had been twenty-four hours since Sam had eaten or even drunk anything that Dean was aware of.

“Sammy, I’m serious,” Dean softened his tone. “You need to eat something. Now, come on. Open the door.”

Still nothing.

“Are you sick, Sam? ‘Cause if you’ll just open the door, and let me take a look at you, I can maybe get you some meds or something. Fix you some soup?”

“Go away!”

Dean could tell the outburst was supposed to be a lot stronger and hard edged, but it really just came out sounding miserable and pitiful.

“All right, Sam, that’s it. I’m comin’ in. Either you unlock the door, or I break it down.”

The door stayed locked.

Dean didn’t break it down. The cabin was a loaner from a good friend of Dad’s after all, and Dean wouldn’t want to damage anything he didn’t have to. That’s why lock picks were invented, after all. 

Dean had the door open inside of ten seconds, but when he swung it wide, he froze in the doorway, still half crouched in the position he’d been in to pick the lock.

The scent hit him like an avalanche and nearly sent him toppling to his backside. He sucked in a huge breath on instinct and then groaned heavily. It was a heavy musk highlighted with spice and a thin layer of sweet like the sugar crust on a rich custard. He gasped and grappled to steady himself against the doorframe.

Sam was across the room, stripped nearly naked and curled in the corner of his bed, body quivering and eyes wild.

“Sammy?” 

The name was punched out of Dean on a heavy breath. He sucked in another lungful of that heady scent and his cock twitched hard in his jeans. He groaned again and briefly closed his eyes, trying to center himself and get back some kind of grip on reality.

“Dean, go away!” Sam whined. “Go! Don’t come near me. I can’t—.”

“Oh, Christ, Sam…” 

Dean was across the room and had Sam in his arms before either of them could blink. Sam tried to push him away, struggled to get out of his grip while at the same time instinctively rubbing himself against Dean, nearly trying to crawl into his lap. 

“Dean, please…” he begged, tossing his head against the madness that was taking over his system.

“Shh, Sam, I got you. I got you,” Dean hushed, petting Sam’s head and stroking down his spine. Sam trembled and shivered and whined. “When did it start, Sam?”

“Y-yesterday morning, I think,” Sam managed to choke out. He moaned miserably and tried again to squirm away from Dean while his body betrayed him and tried to do exactly the opposite by rubbing as close to his brother as he could manage. “Fuck! This hurts, Dean…it hurts!”

“I know, baby,” Dean whispered. “I know.”

Dean thought back to yesterday, wondering how he could not have picked up on what was going on, but Sam had been outside most of the day, diligently training like John had demanded, and the only time he had come in, he was covered in muck and grime and sweat and Dean had not been paying any particular attention, not looking to scent his brother, especially not this way. He thought about Sam’s irascible temper and poor appetite and remembered the feverish look he’d had in his eyes that Dean had dismissed as a trick of the light. Of course Sam hadn’t been hungry. Not for food anyway. 

“Lay down, Sam,” Dean urged. He gently pulled Sam back with him onto the bed and guided Sam’s long legs to unfurl beside him, then Dean started rubbing Sam’s flat belly with the palm of his hand, broad, firm strokes in a loose circle. He could almost feel the muscles cramping underneath and winced in sympathy. “Are you…?”

“Yeah, a little,” Sam said, picking up on Dean’s meaning and blushing furiously. “Feels weird. And it’s like I’m all…empty, and it…fuck!” Sam buried his face in Dean’s shoulder. “When I think about it too hard, I start to go nuts!”

Sam’s voice was on the rise, and his muscles were going from quiver to full on quake.

“Shh. Relax, Sam. Just relax. Breath easy,” Dean prompted.

“Can’t! I can’t, Dean. It’s driving me insane! I’m…oh, God!” 

Sam’s whole body spasmed and Dean caught another thick heady rush of scent in the air. He barely caught the rumbling growl that came up from his chest before it got past his throat. His cock came fully alive, going rigid and aching in the confines of his jeans. 

Sam pulled in a huge breath through his nose, heightened senses easily picking up on Dean’s intense arousal which only served to double back on Sam and drive him that much closer to crazy with need.

“Dean, please…” Sam begged, grinding himself down on Dean’s thigh. “Please!”

Dean wasn’t even sure Sam knew what he was begging for other than just some kind of release. Dean knew, though. He also knew that Sam needed to mate, he needed an Alpha’s knot and soon, or things were going to start to go very badly. Dean had been witness to one or two suppressed and unfulfilled heats, in one case the guy had gone stark raving nuts—permanently. In the other case, the girl had died.

It wasn’t like there were a lot of Alphas around either. Not like there was a lot of anyone around, not for twenty or thirty miles at least and not this time of year, out here in the back woods of Minnesota. So, Dean didn’t have a lot of options. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to mate Sam. Hell, he’d love to. He’d do—had done all his life—practically anything for the kid, but he wasn’t sure what it would do to Sam to have his first knotting be with his brother. Sam was impressionable yet, and sensitive in all the right ways, and Dean was afraid Sam would feel obligated to him afterward even if Dean wasn’t who he truly wanted for a bond partner, and he’d just not go looking anywhere else.

But, fuck! Sam was grinding down hard against his thigh and Dean could feel the wet heat of his slick soaking through his thin boxers and Dean’s denims as it ran down between Sam’s legs and the scent was driving his insane. He’d smelled a lot of Omegas, fucked just about as many, too, and not only when they were in heat; but Sam smelled so much better than that. Sam smelled like home and safe and love to Dean because Dean had taken care of him his whole life, practically raised him while John trundled them from coast to coast in search of the next dollar and the next hot meal. 

John had always been something of a loner anyway, and had barely fit into Mary’s pack, but when she had died giving birth to her third pup, a stillborn little girl that would have been Dean’s baby sister, John had gone pretty crazy. Alphas who lost their bonded life mates ran that risk, and sometimes they never recovered. Bobby had taken them in and taken care of them for the first year while John had stumbled around in a stupor for most of it until one night he just got a wild hair and packed the boys in the car and started driving and then just kept going, leaving Mary’s pack and family and all his agonizing memories behind.

Sam was clutching at Dean’s shirtfront now, practically crawling on top of Dean, spreading himself wide, offering. Dean made a strangled sound and caught Sam’s wrists and held them fast.

“Sam, I can help you. I _will_ help you…if you want me to.”

“Yes!” Sam gasped. “God, Dean, yes please!”

Dean shuddered. He had to stay on top of this, stay in control. He could not wolf-out on Sammy. Sam was too frightened and uncertain underneath all this hormone driven lust as it was, and Dean was not going to add to that. He was going to do this right. If it killed him.

Dean let Sam’s hands loose and slid his own down Sam’s quivering sides, dipping under the waistband of his boxers and rounding over his ass until he could brush his fingers down deep against Sam’s wet hole. Sam shuddered hard and moaned deep and throaty, throwing back his head and clawing his fingers into Dean’s chest.

“Yes…Jesus, Dean. Yes! Need you. Please, need you so bad,” Sam babbled as he wriggled on top of Dean, trying to get Dean’s finger up inside of him.

“Hush, baby,” Dean crooned. “Gonna take care of you. Promise. Gonna do it right.”

Sam moved again, this time managing to tilt his hips enough to force the tip of Dean’s finger inside of him. He groaned loud and long and pushed down harder. “Don’t want _right_ ,” he growled. “Want right _now._ ”

Dean nearly choked on a groan of his own and rolled his hips upward, jutting his hard cock into the hollow of Sam’s hip while he thrust his finger all the way up Sam’s hole. Sam gushed around him and sat straight up, putting pressure on the connection, grinding down and moaning with need. Dean could feel his knot starting to swell in response. If he didn’t get inside Sam and soon, there was going to be no knotting and Dean was going to pop it in his jeans.

He pushed Sam off of him, and Sam glared, looking affronted, startled, and fearful. Dean snarled, but it had heavy undertones of want and need and Sam responded by shimmying out of his wet boxers and throwing them to the floor before rolling to his stomach and pushing his ass up in the air. 

Dean shucked his clothes in the time it took his eyes to sweep over Sam’s slim, lithe body spread all out for him, ass high and open and dripping slick down the inside of his thighs.

“Holy fuck, Sam,” Dean muttered as he positioned himself behind Sam and took hold of that perfect pale ass and kneaded it with his callused palms. His knot was swelling fast, and it was going to be now or never soon, but he had to get Sam to open up for him first so he didn’t hurt him. 

“Need you in me, Dean. Now. Need you so bad!” Sam panted, rutting backward, trying to reach the hard, straight shaft of Dean’s cock and get it inside himself. 

“Gotta open you up, Sam. Stretch you a little first,” Dean gritted out, pressing his thumbs in toward Sam’s hole. He paused just for a second, sliding one thumb in and then the other. Sam bucked hard, gushing out more hot slick and crying to be filled up to the brim with Dean’s knot. Dean plied Sam’s hole gently, working it open, blowing warm breaths across it until Sam was whining and clawing at the sheets.

“Dean…need you inside me! Please! Need to feel your knot in me,” Sam begged, panting hard. “Need to feel you cum in my belly, fill me up good.”

“Guh…” Dean doubled over, lost to the demanding lust in Sam’s words. He grabbed his brother’s hips and slammed his cock home in one single stroke. Sam cried out, frozen for a fraction of a second, stretched painfully around Dean’s massive cock. His knot was swelling already, stretching Sam open even more, but Sam was just moaning with it, and then he started to move, fucking himself on Dean’s cock, rocking faster and faster until Dean’s knot was so big and tight that they couldn’t move any more, and Dean was hip-locked to Sam’s ass and shooting cum into Sam’s belly just like he’d demanded, and Sam was losing it in thick, sticky ropes all over the bed and in the tidal wave of hot, musky slick that poured down around Dean’s throbbing cock. 

They toppled together onto the bed, locked into each other, panting.

Dean stroked Sam’s back, long and slow, down the knobby line of his spine. He planted a cluster of light kisses under each jutting shoulder blade, and marveled at how thin and gangly his kid brother still was despite his height, how much he was still just a boy.

“Feel better, baby?” Dean whispered against his sweat slick skin. Sam nodded, hair fanning on the pillow. “Good. That’s good.”

“You?” Sam asked in a tiny voice, and Dean heard the uncertainty in the question.

“Yeah. Ohhhh, yeah. You were so good, Sammy. Just perfect for me,” Dean said as he stroked and petted Sam’s back.

“You’re still hard.” Sam said in a bewildered whisper. 

Dean chuckled. “I will be for a while. It’ll pass, though.”

“Can I?” Sam gave a tentative scoop of his pelvis, rocking a little on Dean’s still hard cock, and pushing Dean deeper inside him.

“You want more?” Dean asked, surprised only a little at Sam’s recovery rate and not at the fact that he wanted more. He would be ‘wanting’ for the next four or five days. Good thing John was supposed to be gone for three weeks.

“Please?” Sam asked, rocking again. His hand went down to his belly where he splayed his fingers wide. “Want to feel you in me more. Want to get big with you…so big.”

Dean groaned, feeling his cock spark back to life at Sam’s words. He set his teeth against Sam’s shoulder but was careful not to break the skin. He growled low. “That’s just your hormones talkin’, Sam.”

“Don’t care,” Sam insisted, spreading his other hand over his belly, too, and pressing in. “Wanna feel your pups in my belly. Want you to fill me up with them.”

“Fuck, Sam…” Dean locked his hands around Sam’s hips, forcing them to stillness. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Sam stuttered to a stop, and Dean heard him take a hiccuping breath. “Don’t you want me to have your pups, Dean?”

_Holy shit!_ Dean rolled his forehead against Sam’s back. What the hell had he started? He’d only meant to provide his little brother some satisfaction. He should have known that the Omega hormones running high in his blood would have him taking and thinking like this. And if he was honest…?

“Dean?” Sam was near tears now, starting to try and wriggle away.

“Jesus, Sam….Jesus!” Dean grabbed him and hauled him back, clutching him to his chest and holding tight. “Yes, Sam. Yes, I want nothing more than to see your belly full of my pups, but you’re only fifteen, Sam! You can’t be having pups, yet. You don’t even know what life’s got to offer you. _Who_ it has to offer you.”

Sam picked up easily on Dean’s subtle meaning. Kid always was perceptive. 

“Don’t _want_ anyone else, Dean. Want you. Just you.” He bared his neck, completely submitting to Dean, offering himself—all of himself—to just Dean until the day one or the other of them died.

Dean bit his lip, sucked back against a sob, and dipped his mouth to Sam’s throat. He kissed there, sweetly and softly, then parted his lips and sucked, gently drawning blood up to the surface.

“You sure about this, Sammy? Really sure?” Dean murmured against Sam’s sensitive skin.

“Yes. Yes!” Sam breathed. “Do it.”

Dean bared his teeth, feeling his canines come down, and then he set them against Sam’s throat and bit down. Blood welled up into his mouth. Not a lot, just enough that Dean could smell and taste it and know that Sam was his—only his—now and forever.

——

Evening faded into night faded into the early grey hours before dawn, and Dean shifted a little against Sam’s back and pulled the blankets closer around them. Sam was snuggled up against Dean’s chest, his belly so full of Dean’s cum, after he’d popped his knot another four times inside his brother, that it was bloated and swelled out into the palm of Dean’s hand as he cradled it. It was rare for an Omega to get pregnant during their very first heat, so they were probably okay on that score, for now; but they were still bonded life-mates now, and Dean had to have some time to think about how he was going to break the news to John. 

It wasn’t unheard of for brothers to mate, and even bond, and there was nothing wrong with it, but Dean was pretty certain John had been sure that both his sons would be carrying on the family tradition of being Alphas. Not to mention that he just had a soft spot for Sam and was very protective of him as he was so very much like Mary in his usual disposition being straightforward and sensitive and caring—except when he was in the midst of a raging heat and blind with lust.

Sam rolled his hips unconsciously in his sleep and his hand dipped down to cover Dean’s where it cradled his belly. Dean breathed in Sam’s heavy spiced musk and felt a wet rush of heat drench him where he was still buried inside Sam. His cock stiffened, coming to attention as Sam stirred further toward wakefulness and in need of his brother’s knot again. 

Dean grinned wolfishly into Sam’s shoulder, nipped him lightly and thrust his hips forward. 

_Time to play…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is some sweetness and fluff, some John-angst, and porn...just...a lot of porn.

By the time John was to arrive home three weeks later, Sam was pretty sure he was pregnant. 

The morning their dad was due back, Sam shuffled into the kitchen while Dean was frying up eggs and bacon and tugged on his sleeve. Dean turned around, scooting the frying pan off the burner. He whiffed the air. Something smelled different, but he couldn’t zero in on it. It was coming from Sam, but he couldn’t recognize it. 

“Sam, everything okay?” he asked.

“Dean, I think…”

Sam moaned miserably, closed his eyes, and raised up his hoodie and t-shirt for Dean’s inspection.

Dean just stared for a few seconds, bewildered, then,

“Damn it,” he hissed. He’d been afraid that’s what he was scenting. He scrubbed his hands up and down his face. 

“Dean?” Sam’s voice was small and afraid as he dropped his shirts back down. 

Dean mentally kicked himself. Now, he could smell fear and desperation rolling off of Sam. Fuck. He had to learn to pay better attention. Sam was _his_ Omega, after all. He had to take better care of him. Especially now. He crossed the space between them and gathered Sam into his arms, hand slipping between them to cover the barely detectible swell of his little brother’s belly.

“Dean, are you mad?” Sam asked, voice muffled in Dean’s flannel where he fisted it and buried his nose.

“No! Hell, no, Sammy. I’m not mad. Just…maybe a little freaked?”

“Makes two of us.”

Dean huffed a nervous chuckle. “We’ll be okay, Sam. I promise. I’m gonna take care of you.”

“And the…?”

“And the pups,” Dean swore solemnly. “Not gonna let anything happen to you or them.” He moved his hand a little against Sam’s belly and heard him moan in contentment. “How’re _you_ doing?”

Sam shrugged a little. “I should be terrified. And I am, I guess. But it feels…good, too. It feels so good to be full of your pups, Dean.”

“Fuck…” Dean swore harshly, but it was only because he was about to come undone at Sam’s breathily whispered confession. He was suddenly hot and hard and wanted nothing more than to bend Sam over the counter and take possession of him right here in the kitchen, knotting him good and hard and marking him all over and the pups that were growing in his belly, too. 

Sam sensed Dean’s fierce arousal and it caused a wet rush of slick to gush out of him, thickening the air with his heady scent and inside of a minute Dean was panting with the need to get his cock inside Sam. Sam skimmed his sweats down over his hips and turned to bend over the counter just like Dean had envisioned causing Dean to gulp in air and growl deep and hard as he jerked at his button fly and pulled himself free of his jeans. 

Sam was dripping slick and his hole was already soft and wet and open, inviting Dean to push the heavily swollen head of his cock against it until it stretched around him while Sam moaned and scrabbled desperately against the countertop. He slipped in with a wet pop and then steadily pushed the rest of his length up and into Sam until he was fully sheathed, and Sam was sprawled in wanton abandon on the counter, crying out for Dean to move, to fuck him and fill him.

“Sammy,” Dean growled, “if I knot you and Dad shows up…”

“He was still a couple hours out, right?” Sam panted.

Dean groaned in answer and pulled back, then slammed forward making Sam gasp at the impact of Dean’s hips with his buttocks. Dean did it again, and then again. His hand was planted between Sam’s shoulder blades to keep him still while Dean pumped him hard until he felt his knot swelling and the hard tug of it became too painful to either of them and Dean snapped his hips home one last time and came long and hard with a low howl that sent Sam careening over the edge and jetting cum all over the cabinets in front of him. 

Dean dropped over Sam’s back, sandwiching him to the counter, and laid there for a long time before Sam finally made a small sound in his throat and lifted a shoulder in protest. Dean jerked back, still not able to disengage, but propped his weight on his arm and cursed himself. 

“God, Sam, I’m sorry.” Dean dropped a protective hand to Sam’s belly and caressed it. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to be so rough—.”

“Dean, you’re fine.” Sam covered Dean’s hand and squeezed it lightly. “ _They’re_ fine. In fact, I think they liked it.”

Dean’s eyes got wide. “You can feel them already?”

Sam gave a tiny smile. “I think so. It’s kind of like a little warm tickle way down deep in my belly.”

Dean shook his head in wonder. “And you think they _liked_ me knotting you?”

“Yes, Dean, I do.” Sam twisted around as far as he could to plant a kiss on Dean’s mouth. “You marked them, made them yours. Of course, they’re happy.”

Dean’s eyes smarted suddenly. He ducked his head a little, and his voice was rough when he spoke, “Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll have to do it to you again.”

“Promise?” Sam teased.

——

Fortunately, John got sidetracked, as usual, and didn’t show up until late afternoon. Dean had plenty of time to knot his brother three more times until his belly was swollen with more than just pups and for his knot to release so that they had could get cleaned up and showered before John got home.

John’s olfactory sense had long ago been impaired by an acid bomb set off by one of the rogues he was hired to hunt down, cutting back his ability to scent anything more subtle than a pretty clear blood trail, so he had learned to rely on his other senses much like a normal human. He was an excellent hunter, probably one of the best, and because his sense of smell had been damaged, he was able to get the upper hand over a lot of his targets because they assumed he was tracking them by scent alone.

Even knowing all this, Sam and Dean didn’t want to test the theory with the heady, heavy scent of their fucking all over the cabin. No sense in tipping John off early if the situation could be avoided. 

When the Impala’s engine finally rumbled and guttered to a stop, Sam was perched on the edge of the couch, fidgeting and picking at a string on the sleeve of a clean hoodie that he had pulled on over two t-shirts to hide any hint of his belly even though Dean assured him that no one not looking for it would be able to tell there was even the slightest swell there.

“Sam, relax. It’s gonna be fine. We’ll give it a few days, feel him out, and then I’ll talk to him,” Dean said, rubbing a hand across the back of Sam’s neck reassuringly, fingers lingering over the spot where his teeth had punctured Sam’s skin and sealed Dean’s claim on him. 

Nothing was going to pull them apart now. Nothing.

——

Four days later, John was finally starting to come back to a civilized mood.

He’d been forced to hunt an old friend and put him down, and he’d come home gutted and damaged and already halfway inside a bottle that he happily crawled the rest of the way into behind his bedroom door for three days straight.

Dean and Sam stayed quiet, huddling together on the couch or on the bed, wrapped in each other, scenting each other for comfort. Sam was starting to get a little sick in the mornings which was going to become a problem if Dean couldn’t come up with a viable excuse to cover for him, but other than that everything was pretty normal. 

The trouble started the morning John decide to come out of his room. 

Sam was coming into the kitchen from the bathroom, having been sick again, and forgot to tug his hoodie back on because he was always clammy and hot right after he threw up. John and Dean were sitting at the table with black coffee, the smell of which was about to make Sam gag again.

“Think you got taller, Sammy.” John gave Sam an up and down sweep of his eyes and smiled with a father’s gentle pride. “And I realize you’re a growing boy, but you may need to cut back a little,” he said in a teasing tone as he reached out to rub briefly at the swell of Sam’s belly through his thin t-shirt.

Dean came out of his chair, snarling and snapping, and it was all Sam could do to hold him back from taking a chunk out of John’s arm as he snatched it back in confusion.

“What the hell’s gotten into you, boy?” John glared at his eldest, but there was an uneasy tension in his gaze. 

Dean was getting older, and eventually he wouldn’t be able to share the same space with his father. Two Alphas could not live in such close quarters without consequences. It was really a miracle it had lasted this long and that, Dean suspected, was mostly because of Sam.

Dean backed down slowly at Sam’s gentle tugging on his shoulder. He ducked his head and mumbled, “Sorry, Dad,” and turned around and went straight to his and Sam’s bedroom. Sam stared after Dean, his need to comfort his mate gut deep and painful to resist. He glanced at John, smiled weakly as if to say, ‘who knows what bee got under his bonnet, but I’ll check on him,’ and he, too, went back to the shared room and closed the door behind him, silently throwing the lock.

Dean grabbed Sam close and held him, covering his belly with both his hands as if he could keep Sam and his pups safe by that action alone. He wrapped himself around Sam and fought the urge to take him again right there and then just to show John who he belonged to now, and that Dean was the _only_ one with a right to touch him. 

——

“I think we should go, Dean,” Sam said one night while they sat on the couch a month later.

John was off on another hunt for at least a week and possible two if the this hunt panned out the way he suspected it would.

“Go where, Sam?” Dean asked, carding his fingers through Sam’s hair as he came close to dozing against the arm of the couch with Sam spread out on top of him. 

“I think we need to leave. To go out on our own.” Dean lifted his head, coming all the way awake. Sam continued, “You’re getting way too aggressive with Dad for him not to figure out what’s going on soon, and I’m getting too big to hide it as just a little too much starch and not enough exercise.”

As if to illustrate his point, Sam smoothed his t-shirt over the now still low but prominently pregnant swell of his belly. An Omega pregnancy was only about half the length of a human one, so Sam was already pushing into the equivalent of his second trimester.

“You need to talk to him, Dean. Or we need to leave.”

“I know, Sam. I know. It just never seems like the right time,” Dean said.

“Yeah, I know,” Sam replied with a sigh, turning further into Dean’s chest and stroking hands, “and I don’t blame you, not at all. I just…I just really want to go, Dean. I want it to be just you and me. I…need that.”

Dean looked down at Sam’s soft, warm, pleading eyes and he knew, even though he consciously told himself that he’d need to think really hard about this, that he was going to go pack their bags and empty his dad’s emergency stash of cash and then his secret emergency stash as well and pack Sam and his growing pups and their stuff into the Impala that Dad had left behind, because he was hunting with Caleb this time, and drive off without even leaving a note; because Dean would do anything and everything that Sam needed. 

——

Late July in the Colorado Rockies was sunny days and perfect temperatures.

They had been on the road for over a month and couldn’t be happier. Dean had used his father’s impressive stash of emergency cash to double down on a few winner-take-all pool games early on and had won them enough that money wouldn’t be an issue for a while if they were reasonable in their expenses, and they even had enough to start picking up little things for the pups later on.

Sam stretched upward in the seat beside Dean, working a kink out of his lower back as Dean let the Impala guide herself lazily around the curves of the lower Rocky mountain roads. 

“Keep that up, Sammy and I’m gonna have to find a place to pull over,” Dean threatened.

Sam slid him a look, smirking the tiniest bit and stretched again, further up, arching his back so that the now unmistakably pregnant swell of his belly stuck out prominently. Dean growled deep in his throat and pressed a hand over his crotch where his cock was jerking fiercely to life.

“Sammy…” Dean warned.

Sam scooted across the seat and took Dean’s hand and held it to the underside of his belly before slowly pressing it down between his legs where his own cock was getting hard and Dean could easily feel the damp heat of Sam’s slick that was already gushing from him. 

“Fuck, Sam.”

“You’d better.” Sam grinned and thrust up against Dean’s palm. The Impala swerved  a fraction before Dean got his breath back and righted the wheel. Sam laughed breathily and closed his thighs around Dean’s hand, rubbing his cock harder into his brother’s palm as he reached to ruck up his shirt under his ribs and expose the round expanse of taut, pale skin over his belly that drove Dean absolutely mad with wanting.

Dean snarled fiercely and jerked the Impala off onto a turn-out that advertised short, family friendly hiking trails where there were blessedly no other cars parked at the moment. He killed the engine and was across the seat and hulking over Sam in less time than it took him to throw on the emergency break just to be safe.

“Sam,” he growled deep. “Gonna fucking knot you so good and hard, you aren’t gonna know what hit you.”

“Please, Dean.” Sam writhed against the leather of the seat. “Do it. Need you in me. Wanna feel you all hard and long. Feel that knot…stretch me wide…oh God!”

Sam gasped and bucked upward, spreading himself in offering to his Alpha. 

Dean was beyond speaking as he gazed down at Sam, all hungry and open, pupils blown wide, naked belly begging to be held and caressed, the thought of Dean’s pups inside hid brother sending him completely over the moon in love and lust. He scooped an arm under Sam’s shoulders and lifted him, turning him toward the back seat, letting him get his arms braced and his knees up on the seat. Then Dean tugged open Sam’s pants and slid them down his still slender hips and reached between his cheeks to pet Sam’s warm wet hole. 

Slick gushed over Dean’s fingers, making him tremble with need. He pushed his finger up into the soft heat of Sam’s opening, stroking him thoroughly until he was writhing and fucking back against Dean’s hand.

“Dean…need you…need your cock. Please. Want your knot in me. Please!”

If Dean didn’t know better, he’d have said Sam was in another heat the way he was so hot to have Dean’s knot in him, but Sam was just generally hot all the time. Maybe it was the hormones because of the pups in his belly, but Sam was sex crazed and wanted it at least once a day which didn’t hurt Dean’s feelings at all.

Dean stroked Sam harder, adding another finger. Sam moaned loudly as another gush of musky slick ran over Dean’s fingers. 

“Gonna get it all over the seats, Dean,” Sam panted.

“Don’t fucking care, Sam,” Dean said. He leaned forward and sunk his teeth into the back of Sam’s shoulder while he finger fucked him until he was nearly crying for release. Then Dean finally undid his belt and pulled his zipper down excruciatingly slow. He pressed his swollen head up against Sam’s hole but no further. “Ready for me, Sam?”

“Yes!” Sam cried. “Yes. Give it to me!”

Dean pushed his cock into Sam’s ass, sinking the head home with a wet pop. “Feels…so good, Sam. So…fucking good,” Dean groaned.

“More, Dean. Please, more!” Sam begged. 

Dean obliged, one slow inch at a time, holding Sam’s hips hard so that he couldn’t jerk back and take all of Dean at once. Sam reached down between his legs and started jerking himself off desperately.

“Gonna come, Dean. God! Gonna come…”

“Do it, Sam,” Dean snarled at his ear. “Do it for me. I wanna feel you all wet and squeezing me, milking me dry. Come for me, Sam. Come for me!”

Sam cried out and his hips snapped forward, dragging Dean with him, and he came all over the back of the Impala’s front seat while his insides squeezed down on Dean with terrific force, inflating his knot so that he couldn’t so much as budge and had him coming just seconds after Sam.

“Holy shit, Sam,” Dean panted, draping himself across Sam’s back. 

Sam could only make a satisfied groan in his throat as he happily stroked his belly.

——

Later that night, after Dean had fed Sam up on roast chicken and vegetables and his requisite green salad, they lay together naked on the motel bed while Dean stroked Sam’s belly. The pups seemed particularly active in the evening and at night and Dean could feel a near constant tumble of energy inside Sam, little paws and noses pressing outward against his palm every once in a while to a huffed or half startled breath from Sam.

“You are so…sexy, Sam,” Dean whispered against the shell of his ear. “I can’t even tell you how much I love seeing your belly all full and swollen with our pups; how much it turns me on.”

“Mmmm. Feels good, Dean. So good, to be so…full,” Sam replied. “I never imagined I could feel this satisfied.”

Dean stroked Sam’s belly in long, smooth sweeps, and he could feel himself getting hard. He rolled up and over Sam and hung there, all his weight up on his arms and knees. Sam stared up at him, eyebrow lifted a little in query.

“Wanna come for you, Sam,” Dean said.

Sam’s eyelids immediately went half mast, and he undulated his hips. Dean could smell the thick heady musk of Sam’s slick as it gushed down in answer to Dean’s request.

Dean lowered himself a little, rubbed his cock against Sam’s belly. “No, Sam. Wanna come for you so you can see. Come all over your belly. Show you just how hot you are like this.”

Sam swallowed thickly, tears springing to his eyes. “Oh, Dean…”

Dean dropped a little lower, rubbing himself against the underside of Sam’s belly, groaning with pleasure.

Sam moaned in response, lifting his hips upward, reaching for Dean to help him along, but Dean pushed his hand away determined to fuck himself to release against Sam’s pregnant swell alone. He spread his thighs and settled lower over Sam, grinding and rubbing against his belly.

“God, Sam, so fucking gorgeous with my pups making you all big,” Dean panted. 

Sam whimpered, drenching the bed beneath  him in hot slick and pre-cum that ran down his own erect cock. His insides were clenching fiercely and his cock jerking hard as he watched Dean work himself to climax, his knot starting to swell up. 

Sam had never seen Dean’s knot. He’d felt it inside him, stretching him wide, and knew it was big, but seeing the thick, aching glory of it as it rubbed against his naked belly set him so close to the edge that the slightest touch was going to make him come harder, he thought, than he ever had before.

Dean was picking up the pace, pushing his cock harder and harder into Sam’s soft belly, groaning heavily, hips snapping back and forth. “Gonna come, Sam. Gonna come all over your belly. God…so close…”

“Yes. Yes, Dean! Come all over me,” Sam gasped.

Dean’s hips suddenly stuttered and locked forward, and he howled out long and low as he popped his knot in a huge wet rush of cum all over Sam’s belly.

Sam gripped himself hard and jerked once and followed Dean over the edge and down into oblivion.

——

Sam woke up at some point in the night, covered in crusted slick and cum with his mate collapsed beside him, snoring contentedly, one arm curled around Sam’s belly. He smiled broadly into the dark and pulled the blankets up over both of them and stroked his belly once with a whispered, “Sweet dreams, babies,” before he dropped back into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gives birth.

Three months and two and a half weeks later with several thousand miles between the Impala and home, Dean was driving down a two lane highway in the early October sunshine with the windows down.

Sam was in the seat beside him, propped against the door in a small nest of pillows, hands folded over his round belly, asleep. He’d been getting more and more tired lately and spent almost all their driving hours sleeping, but he wouldn’t let Dean stop anywhere for too long either. Dean didn’t think he was restless, in fact he knew Sam was just the opposite; he was desperately needing to hold still somewhere and nest because his due date—as they had figured it—was just over a week away and the pups were low in his belly now, but he seemed to have some deep seeded fear that if they stopped, John or someone else would find them.

Dean wasn’t nearly so worried about that. He could easily handle their father or anyone else who got in their path, he knew that, and he tried to reassure Sam of it, but Sam insisted on keeping to the road. Dean was a lot more worried about Sam right now. He wasn’t huge by any means, had hardly put on any weight at all in fact, but his slight fifteen year old frame, though tall and sturdy enough, wasn’t quite ready to carry a litter even if it was only a litter of two. He was still having his own growing pains that Dean spent hours massaging out of his arms and legs and back, and the pressure of the quickly growing pups on his insides and hips and pelvis was making him uncomfortable no matter what position he was in now.

Sam moaned a little in his sleep, and Dean reached across and ran a hand through his brother’s—his _mate’s—_ hair and settled the long strands behind his ear, then let his hand skate down over Sam’s shoulder and arm to rest on the swell of his belly. Dean left his hand there, feeling the gentle, fluttering lives inside.

He was still blown away by the idea that Sam was his mate, and the pups in his belly were Dean’s. Dean was actually going to be a dad. The thought was awe inspiring and terrifying at the same time. He was responsible for three lives now—because Sam was certain he was having two pups—and while he was a crack shot at hustling pool and nearly as good a hunter as their father, he’d never really held a steady job so to speak, and he’d promised himself and Sam both that he was _not_ going to raise their pups like John had raised them. 

Sam’s hand slid down to cover Dean’s. “Dean?”

Dean winced at having disturbed Sam’s much needed rest. “I’m sorry, Sammy. Did I wake them?”

Sam smiled and held Dean’s hand firmly pressed to the curve of his belly. “No, you didn’t. They’re being quiet right now.”

“Good.” Dean absently rubbed his thumb in little circles around Sam’s protruding belly button.

Sam giggled. “Dean! That tickles—oh. Oh!”

Sam lurched a little forward in the seat.

“What? Sam, what’s wrong?”

Sam looked down at his belly, frowning a little uncertainly. “I think….” He drifted off and didn’t say anything for several minutes, but kept his palms pressed firmly to either side of the swell in his lap. He gave a little moan that hitched up in discomfort at the end, but still said nothing. Dean was getting anxious and worried at Sam’s silence, but Sam seemed calm enough, so he kept his mouth shut, chewing on the inside of his cheek and waiting.

The next time Sam made a sound it was a stronger moan and definitely built on pain. Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and pressed it flat just under his belly button. “Dean. I’m having contractions.”

“You’re sure?” Dean’s voice was a little weak. “Really sure? ‘Cause you’re not supposed to be due for another week at least.”

Sam nodded. “First litters come early a lot of the time, Dean, and—.” His breath hitched and he breathed long and slow through another pain. “I’m far enough along that it’s perfectly safe. But I think we should…find somewhere to stop?”

Dean nodded his immediate agreement, keeping a protective hand against Sam’s belly and a sharp lookout for a good motel.

——

Dean found a decent little place off the highway in a small, rural town that looked like something plucked straight from the forties with mom and pop stores lining the streets and an old style school house and a small collection of mostly brick homes with nicely tended lawns.

None of which did Dean care about by the time he found it four hours later.

Sam’s contractions were getting closer and closer and despite the fact that he was doing an outstanding job of staying in control and on top of the pain, Dean could tell they were getting worse, and he needed to get Sam laid down and nested in as best he could before the pups started coming.

He got them a room with two queen beds and Sam insisted on getting inside under his own power, but let Dean help undress him and get him situated in a collection of pillows and blankets heavily marked with both Dean’s and Sam’s scent that they had been slowly collecting over the last weeks and was serving as a kind of portable nest, at least, at every place they stopped. Then he settled in to wait.

——

Twelve hours later, Dean stroked Sam’s back, making circles at the base of his spine where the pressure was the worst. Sam groaned and shifted his hips, and Dean winced when he started to bear down again, panting through the pain and ending on a whimper.

“Sam, I’m gonna—,” Dean said hesitantly. “I’m gonna call Dad, okay?”

“No!” Sam blurted, eyes shooting open wide in terror before they squinted shut again in pain and he gasped out, “He’s not coming near me!”

Sam would naturally not want anyone else in the room with them, especially not another Alpha, but the situation was rapidly escalating beyond what Sam could keep on top of, and Dean was honestly starting to fear for his mate’s and his pups’ well being.

“Sammy, he’s not going to _be_ here, but you need help, and I—I don’t know what to do for you,” Dean said. He hated admitting that. It took an enormous effort to admit it. Sam was _his_ Omega, after all, and Dean should damn well be able to provide whatever he needed; but not this time. This time Sam needed expertise Dean didn’t have. “Dad was there when you were born, Sam. It was awful. I remember Mom screaming, but he knew just what to do to get you out. I think he can help.”

“I can do this!” Sam’s voice was high and desperate.

“Oh, baby, I know you can,” Dean soothed, “and you’re doing great, but Sammy, you’ve been pushing for hours and—.”

“I know,” Sam whined, “they aren’t coming.”

Dean settled next to Sam on the floor, putting a hand underneath his hardened belly and feeling the ripple of muscle so distinctly that he knew exactly the moment Sam’s teeth would grit together as he tried once again to push his pups out into the world.

“Oh God, Dean,” Sam whimpered. “It’s not—they’re not—.”

Dean kept a hand on Sam’s belly and continued to rub his back. Sam had tried everything he could think of—every position that felt like it might help him—laying, sitting, squatting. He was on his knees now, belly hanging down, upper body braced on the bed. His muscles were all quivering with effort, his body was stretched wide open and ready, but the pups were still stubbornly refusing to be born. 

Sam cried out with another intense contraction and urge to bear down, grunting enormously at the end with still no results.

Dean thrust up off the floor, decision made.

“No!” Sam choked out through another effort to push. “Don’t call Dad!”

But Dean had already dialed and, surprisingly, his father had already answered.

“Dean?”

“Dad?” Dean tried to contain his desperation, to keep his voice calm. “Dad, I…need your help. Sam is—.

“Is Sam all right?” John’s voice was tight, urgent.

“He’s…I don’t know, Dad.” Dean swore softly. “Look, this is a whole long story, and I’ll explain it all later, but Sam’s in labor, has been for hours, and the pups won’t—.”

“He can’t push them out.”

It wasn’t a question, and it took Dean a full count of ten to realize his father had hit the nail on the head with little or no explanation. 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” John said. “Keep him calm. Tell him to stop pushing. Right now. Don’t let him push anymore. Not until I get there.”

Dean was too stunned to say a word, or ask how his father planned on getting to them when he didn’t even know where they were, and held the phone to his ear for nearly a minute before he realized John had hung up.

Sam’s sudden grunt and outcry snapped Dean back to attention fast. He dropped down beside Sam and took hold of his hips. 

“Sam, you have to stop, baby. Dad says you have to stop pushing.”

“S-stop?” Sam stuttered, bleary eyes turing helplessly up to Dean’s. “I can’t. I can’t stop.”

Sam groaned and Dean could tell he was still trying to bear down. He moved his hand to Sam’s tight, hard belly. “Sam, breathe. Just focus on breathing and don’t push, okay? Come on, let’s get you up on the bed.”

By the time Dean got Sam shifted up onto the bed on his side and resisting the urge to push with the continuing contractions, there was a heavy pounding at the door.

“Dean, it’s me,” John called.

Dean reluctantly slipped Sam’s grip on his hand and pulled the door cautiously wide. 

“Look, Dad, I know you’re furious, and I get that, but right now—,” Dean started before John could even get all the way in the room.

“We’ll talk later, Dean,” John said, pushing past his son. “Right now, we need to help your brother.”

Dean was left at the door, blinking as his father stripped out of his coat and settled on the far side of the bed. Sam whimpered and tried feebly to scramble away from him.

“Sammy, it’s okay. Just relax. I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. Or the pups either,” John said soothingly. “I just need to feel your belly, okay?”

Dean responded with a snarl and a growl, instantly at Sam’s side and looming over him as John reached to touch him. John froze.

“Dean, I need to feel where the pups are. I think they might need to be turned. That’s why Sam can’t push them out. It’s the same problem your mother had,” John explained carefully.

Dean settled on the bed, letting Sam squirm his head into his lap and wrapped his arms protectively around Sam’s back. He gave John a tight nod.

“Okay. Okay, Sam. I’m just going to feel for how the pups are positioned,” John said gently and paused, waiting for his son to acknowledge that he understood.

Sam gave a quick nod and bit down on his lip, nostrils flaring as he breathed through the urge to push with another contraction. John waited for the pain to pass and then laid his hands on Sam’s round belly. Sam gasped at the pressure as John’s fingers pressed inward, feeling for the pups.

“Breathe, Sammy. Keep breathing,” Dean urged gently when Sam tried to hold his breath against the added pain of John’s examination.

John pulled back, hands dropping to rub against his thighs. He frowned. “I was afraid of this.”

“What?” Dean demanded. “What’s wrong?”

John let out a slow breath. “One of the pups isn’t turned head down. He’s laying sideways. I need to-to turn  him so he’ll drop down and engage.”

“H-how?” Sam asked.

“I’ll have to physically push him into position, and I won’t lie, Sam. It’s gonna hurt like hell,” John said.

Sam turned wide, frightened eyes up to Dean, and Dean held him tighter and shuddered. He could remember the sound of his mother’s screams as John had worked to help her give birth to Sam.

“Sam, I don’t…” Dean’s voice gave out on him.

Sam struggled to put up a brave front. “Dean, if we don’t let him, then the pups are going to die because I’m not—I can’t—.”

“Shhh. Shh, Sammy, don’t. You’ve done great. So great. Been so strong,” Dean murmured, kissing Sam’s temple and nuzzling his sweat damp hair.

Sam was near tears.

“Sam,” John said quietly, “this is not your fault. Nothing you’ve done could have caused or prevented this, but you are right. We have to do this and get these pups born soon.”

“Okay.” Sam bit down hard on his lip to hold his frightened tears at bay. “Okay. Do it.”

John nodded. “Dean, hold him.”

“H-hold him?”

“I wasn’t kidding. This is going to hurt like a son of a bitch.” John got up on his knees, leaning over Sam. “Tell me when you feel a contraction coming. I’m gonna try and turn him at the same time, try to work with your body’s own efforts.”

Sam nodded, and Dean readjusted his grip on his brother’s shoulders, holding him firmly. A moment later, Sam’s breath hitched and he grimaced.

“Now,” he cued John.

John took a deep breath and then pushed hard with both hands against Sam’s belly.

Sam screamed. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and locked up his arms as Sam tried to heave and twist away from their father’s efforts.

“Hold on, Sam. Just hold on,” John coached, still pressing, trying to coax the pup into position.

It took five more contractions and John’s broad palms working to manipulate the pup from outside before Sam suddenly pitched forward, with so much force Dean couldn’t keep hold of him, and curled over his belly.

“Oh…fuck!” he yelled, and Dean could see instantly that he was bearing down again.

“Sam?”

“It’s coming, Dean,” Sam huffed. “It’s coming! I can feel it.” He curled forward harder, grunting fiercely. 

“Take it easy, Sam,” John cautioned. “Don’t push too hard.”

But Sam wasn’t paying attention.

“Floor,” he demanded. “Need to get in the floor. Now.”

Dean immediately helped Sam roll off the bed and got him back onto his knees, leaning over the mattress, just in time for Sam to groan heavily and sink downward into another fierce push.

“I got you, Sammy. I got you,” Dean crooned, rubbing at the sides of Sam’s lower back and out over his hips as Sam strained to spread himself wider for the pup to come down.

John just hovered over the pair, keeping enough distance that he wasn’t a nuisance, knowing that any disturbance or sudden move now might get him his throat ripped out—however unintentional it might be.

He watched his youngest son labor, grunting and straining to birth his pups, wishing there was something more he could do; but Sam’s belly was hanging low now that the pup was turned into position and nature would just have to take its course from here.

His heart went out to his oldest who was on his knees behind his mate, silent tears of empathetic pain rolling unnoticed down his cheeks as he helped hold Sam open and quietly urged him to push slow and steady.

“Oh God…Dean!” Sam’s voice went suddenly frantic, and he dropped down further into Dean’s hands. “Oh…fuck. Ow!”

“That’s it, Sammy,” Dean urged, catching sight of a patch of dark, wet fur stretching Sam open. He reached between Sam’s thighs to touch the straining bulge. “That’s it. You’re almost there. Push again, baby. Just once more.”

“Fucking burns!” Sam cried as the pup came slowly, down and out, stretching him even wider; but Sam obeyed his brother and pushed hard, straining downward.

A moment later, the room was filled with the mewling, squeaking cries of a large, healthy male pup.

“Jesus, Sam, you did it,” Dean whispered reverently as he cleaned off the little body and wrapped it in a towel, marveling at the little life in his hands and crying unabashedly with the huge swell of pride his felt cracking his heart wide open.

Sam smiled weakly, but his relief at the sweet, high sounds from his first pup was short lived as he immediately began laboring again to bring his second into the world.

This one went smoother and faster with Sam birthing a pretty little female only about two-thirds the size of her older brother into Dean’s waiting hands less than thirty minutes later.

As soon as the pup slipped free of Sam’s straining body, he collapsed in a boneless heap against the side of the bed, panting and completely exhausted. Dean was torn between cleaning up his new pups and caring for his Omega, an impulse that was so strong it almost caused him pain.

John rescued him, though, offering over a blanket to Dean to wrap Sam in and taking the squirming bundle of pups into his arms to finish cleaning them.

Despite his exhaustion, Sam was eager to hold his pups, barely letting Dean wrap him up and settle him against his chest before he was begging to hold them. John immediately relinquished them to Sam’s waiting arms, and he buried his nose against their soft little faces and breathed them in, looking up at Dean as if for approval. Dean enveloped Sam in a warm embrace and kissed him tenderly.

“You did so good, Sammy. So good. They’re perfect.”

Sam smiled, broad and tired and dimply and lifted the pups to nurse at his breasts that had grown hard and full with milk. After a few minutes of contentedly letting the pups suckle, though, Sam suddenly grimaced.

“Sam?” Dean asked, concerned at the sudden tensing of his brother’s body.

“Dean, I—.” Sam gasped and curled forward. “I think—.”

“Shh, Sam. Relax,” Dean said. “It’s just your body getting rid of the excess. It’s okay. It’s natural.”

“No.” Sam shook his head, face screwing up tight in pain. “This is…. Ow!

“Sam!”

Sam was suddenly pushing again, groaning through a hard contraction. He practically dumped the pups into Dean’s arms in his hurry to clutch at his hardening belly and slip a hand between his legs to feel at his still stretched opening.

“Dean, there’s another one! Oh God….” Sam jerked the blanket aside, spread himself wide, and began pushing in earnest.

“Sam, slow down,” John cautioned, getting up on the bed between Sam’s legs help his struggling son.

But Sam couldn’t stop. He screamed and cried as the contractions came on with brutal intensity, not trying to help him give birth but almost in an attempt to viciously expel something from his body. He thrashed so hard with the pain that it was all Dean could do to hold him, and John finally had to raise up and press his full weight onto Sam’s knees to keep him still enough to let the tiny, underdeveloped body of his third pup be pushed from his belly. 

Sam screamed in agony as he birthed the pup, his muscles locked and quivering, leached of every ounce of energy, and then crumpled sobbing into Dean’s arms.

Dean waited, breath held, hushing and soothing his Omega, nuzzling his neck while he looked expectantly at John who held the tiny body in the palm of his hand, gently trying to rub life into its unresponsive limbs.

After five full minutes of effort while the whole room pulsed with palpable apprehension, John finally looked up and gave a little shake of his head.

Sam curled into Dean’s chest and bawled loud and long while Dean just sat and held him in silence, rocking them both, and staring over Sam’s head at the tiny lifeless body in his father’s hands.

When Sam could finally draw in enough air to speak again, he turned into a blubbering mess.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he hiccuped, pawing at Dean’s shirt front. “God, I’m so sorry I couldn’t—.”

Dean grabbed either side of his brother’s head and slammed his mouth against Sam’s, tasting the salt of their combined tears and stifling the rest of his words. He pulled back after a long moment, in which Sam keened pitifully in his throat, and Dean nipped sharply at his lips so he would pay attention.

“Don’t you _dare_ blame yourself,” Dean said fiercely. “You’ve given me—us—two beautiful, healthy pups, Sam, and I love you for that.” Dean gave him a little shake. “This is _not_ your fault.”

Sam mumbled something unintelligible amid another wave of tears and fell back against Dean, blessedly passing out only a few seconds later.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean deal with the emotional fallout and decide how to go forward.

Dawn was just starting to turn the motel room grey while John and Dean sat at the table by the window, a small basket layered with soft blankets and a couple of Sam’s and Dean's old t-shirts—for the scent—between them that held the new pups snug and secure while they whuffled and made tiny sleepy little sounds. Dean kept his hand in the basket, stroking each soft head in turn, still dumbstruck by the idea that they were really his. 

Sam was asleep on the bed, cleaned, dressed and cocooned in blankets that Dean had marked and left his scent on to try and comfort his mate and help him rest.

After initially passing out against Dean’s chest from exhaustion, Sam had woken once in response to the pups’ cries for a feeding, but had not really come fully conscious for which Dean was unaccountably grateful. Even asleep, Sam’s brow was pulled down and every now and then Dean saw a tear slip from the corner of his eye as somewhere in his dream world, he was being reminded that one of his pups was dead.

John had very carefully cleaned and wrapped the tiny body and nestled it into a box which he packed in ice and had locked in the weapons box of his truck bed. They would wait until Sam woke up fully to ask him what he wanted done. There was no way Dean was simply going to dispose of his daughter’s little body without Sam knowing and approving of what he was doing. John had been surprisingly on board with that.

“How are you doing, son?” John asked quietly.

Dean looked up, startled to find that there was anyone still in the room with him even though he knew his father had been there all along. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts and drawn to the softness of baby fur beneath his fingertips that he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone.

He shrugged unevenly. “Fine.”

John leaned in a little, and Dean reacted instinctively by looping an arm over the basket between them and leaning in to meet his father.

“Dean, relax,” John said, cocking his head slightly. “I’m no threat to you. I haven’t been tracking you for nearly four months to hurt any of you.”

“Four months?” Dean was honestly shocked. “You’ve been on us since we left?”

John nodded. “It took me a good three weeks to pin you down—you did a real good job of covering your tracks, but I found you eventually.”

“Why did you wait to say anything?”

John shrugged this time. “I knew you’d left for a reason, just wasn’t sure what it was, but I figured it had something to do with Sam. Can’t say I wasn’t pretty damn surprised when I caught sight of him about a month ago.”

Dean waited, tense.

“I wasn’t mad, though, Dean. I got to thinking about it good and hard, and it makes perfect sense, really. You two have always been attached at the hip, don’t know why that wouldn’t carry over into you being mates.”

“You weren’t angry about Sam?”

“About him being an Omega? Or the pups?” John asked.

“Either?”

“Neither,” John said firmly. “I think down deep I knew Sam would present as an Omega. He was always too much like Mary to be an Alpha, and he wouldn’t have been a very good one if he had been. 

“The pups? I was shocked. I won’t lie. I thought you two were smarter than that. I still think you’re awfully young, but life doesn’t always give you what you expect or go the way you plan, and I know you both can handle it. It won’t be easy, but you can do it.” John paused and slowly moved a hand to rest on the edge of the basket, waiting for Dean’s permission, before he reached in and caressed each velvety head in turn. “Besides, I don’t think these pups could hope to have better or more loving parents.”

Dean flushed a little and ducked his head, his eyes burning with sudden tears. John stayed quiet and they sat together for a while in the silence, each stroking a soft, warm pup. 

“Did you know?” John finally asked.

Dean didn’t need to ask about what. He took a deep, steadying breath. He wasn’t sure he was ready to think too hard about this yet, much less talk about it. “No. We didn’t. Sam thought there were only two. That was all he could feel.”

John nodded slowly. “It happens, you know. Not anything either of you could have done.”

“I know.” Dean let his gaze slide over to Sam who was tucked up in a tight ball on the bed beneath the blankets. “Convincing him of that, though, may be a little hard.”

“He’s awfully young to be birthing a litter. It’s pretty amazing that you have two healthy ones. Dealing with the emotional fallout is going to take a while. It’s difficult, even for those that are older and have more experience.”

Dean looked over at his father. John had sat back, fingers still absently stroking puppy fur in the basket, but his eyes were closed and his face was slightly pinched, and it occurred to Dean that he was probably thinking back on his own loss.

It was hard for Dean to remember that John had lost a daughter as well as his wife at the same time all those years ago. He had only seen the pup once before she was buried with Mary, and he’d been so young at the time that it hadn’t meant much to him to have a sibling he’d never even had a chance to know die before it was ever born.

A cold, wet nose pushed into the middle of his palm and his son made a small dissatisfied noise that was going to become a full whine very soon to let his parents know his little belly was empty and he wanted fed.

“Dean?” Sam sat up gingerly, rubbing sleep from his eyes, instantly alert to the need of his new pups. 

Dean sighed heavily and scooped the pups up and carried them to the bed. Sam grimaced as their little girl cried long and low, adding her demands to her brother’s, and Dean saw two small wet spots form on the front of Sam’s shirt and caught the sweet scent of fresh milk on the air. Sam’s chest was swollen and hard with all the milk and Dean frowned as he thought it might have been wiser to not let Sam sleep so long that he got this uncomfortably full. The pups latched on easily, though, and Sam sighed unconsciously in relief as they suckled and took away the hot, uncomfortable pressure. 

Sam gave no immediate indication that he was still upset over their daughter’s death, but his eyes were darting randomly around the room every so often like he was looking for something. Dean settled down beside him, looping an arm over his brother’s shoulders.

“Dad took care of her, Sam,” he said softly. “We were just waiting for you to…decide how you wanted to handle it.”

Sam’s lips thinned into a hard line as he fought back fresh tears. “You do whatever you think is right, Dean. I can’t…” 

Sam gave a tiny shake of his head and gulped back against a sob, dipping his head to bury it in the soft, warm fur of their daughter’s neck as she nursed.

“Hey…shhh,” Dean hushed him. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of everything.”

Sam tilted over slightly to nuzzle up toward Dean’s throat, pulling in a deep breath of his Alpha’s calming scent. “I know. I know you will.”

Dean held Sam close while he nursed the pups and scratched their ears in turn as they started to drift back to sleep with round little bellies full of warm milk. 

“So, are we going to name them what we talked about?” he asked quietly after Sam had nestled the pups back in their basket.

“I think it fits them, don’t you?” Sam said, cracking a smile for perhaps the first time since the birth.

“Absolutely,” Dean grinned. “Chance Cain and Grace Ellen Winchester.”

“Good, strong names,” John agreed.

Sam jumped a little at the sound of his father’s voice, honestly surprised that Dean had let him stay.

Dean tightened his arm around Sam’s shoulders, “It’s okay, Sam. We talked. Everything’s good.”

Sam darted a nervous glance at John, and as much as John wanted to go to his son and tuck him up and hold him close and soothe his fear and his pain, he knew he’d lost the right to do that anymore. That was up to his mate now—up to Dean.

Sam made a low keening sound in his throat. By rights, he shouldn’t want to be touched by any other Alpha, but being denied the comfort of his father’s strong presence at an age that he should still be able to rely on it was taking a toll on him as sensitive as he was, and Dean was not oblivious to it.

He extricated himself carefully from Sam. Sam leaned over into him even as he kept his gaze on John. Dean kissed Sam’s hair and dipped his head to nuzzle Sam’s throat and nip at him lightly.

“I’m going to go get us some food,” he said, giving his father a deliberate look. He pressed a kiss to Sam’s lips and murmured. “Just do me a favor and take a shower after. Then he’s going to have to leave for a while, so I can have you.”

Sam smiled in relief and flung his arms around Dean’s neck, kissing him soundly, and smiling a real, honest smile. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Dean nuzzled him one last time, ran a possessive hand across each of his pups in their basket, and then grabbed his coat and shrugged it on. “I’ll be back in about an hour.”

——

When Dean got back, John was leaned up against the side of his truck, hands shoved in his pockets, breath frosty in the chilly morning air.

“You didn’t have to wait out here,” Dean said, handing his father a paper sack that steamed slightly with its hot contents and a large styrofoam cup of strong black coffee.

“I know you’re not comfortable having me here,” John said. “I waited until Sam got through the shower to keep an eye on the little ones and then came out to let the place air a bit.”

“Dad, I—,” Dean started miserably.

“Dean. It’s not your fault,” John said. “This is just how it works. I would feel exactly the same in your position.” He paused, looking down, gave the heel of his boot a little stomp into the pavement. “You have each other. You don’t need me.”

Dean shook his head, rolling his shoulders against the weight he felt settling there; the weight of a mate and pups that would need constant care and attention, feeding and any number of things Dean was sure he hadn’t given any thought to yet. So far, he and Sam had been riding on the lengthy high of that first heat back in May and how good it had felt to satisfy all their instincts to fuck each other mindless and breed Sam up until he popped. 

It was time to face reality now.

“That’s the thing, Dad,” he said slowly. “He _does_ need you. You were right. We were way too fucking young to do this. I’m starting to get that. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world! But it’s…a lot to take in.”

John’s arms ached to take hold of his son like he had years ago and tell him that everything was going to be all right, that he could make it all right, and a year—even six months—ago he might have been able to do that, but not now. He and any other Alpha alive was a threat now because Dean’s primary instincts had turned fully to the protection and wellbeing of his mate and his pups. That was as it should be, but it didn’t mean John couldn’t regret it.

“Sam and I talked a little, Dean,” John said, looking past him and out toward the highway that they could hear if they listened hard even if they couldn’t see it. “I’ll let him tell you about it. Just promise me you’ll listen and consider it. Okay?”

Dean looked a little confused, but nodded. “Yeah, okay, Dad. I will.”

“Good.” John shoved off the side of the truck and fished his keys out of his pocket. “Now, you get in there and be with your family. I’m gonna take off.” Dean cut a glance to John’s truck box. John caught it and nodded. “Sam knows where I’ll be.”

John climbed into the truck, thanked his son for breakfast, and drove off down the road toward the highway headed north.

Sam was sitting up cross-legged in the bed in the nest of bedding that smelled like him and Dean and now their new pups when Dean came in carrying breakfast. His hair was still damp from his shower and he was wearing one of Dean’s flannels with most of the buttons undone to let it open wide enough to nurse Chance and Grace.

“Hungry little things,” Dean said softly as he started laying out the food on the table.

“Mmm,” Sam hummed a little and smiled softly. “Means their healthy.”

“Yup.” Dean slid a hip onto the mattress, easing down so as not to jar Sam or wake the pups who were drifting off quickly again now that they were sated. Dean reached out a hand and cupped Grace’s full little tummy and rubbed lightly. She made a soft, satisfied squeak in her sleep that made Dean’s face split into a broad grin. 

“When do you think they’ll be able to change?” Sam asked, settling them into their basket again and doing up the buttons on his shirt. 

Dean reached out a hand to stop Sam’s efforts at the last four buttons. Sam looked up, questioning, caught the deliberately banked flicker of desire in Dean’s eyes and blushed, letting his hands drop.

“You made your first change when you were a little over a year if I remember right,” Dean answered, straightening Sam’s shirtfront and then helping him disentangle himself from the bedding and stand up. He was a little unsteady on his feet. He hadn’t eaten anything yet since last night’s ordeal and it had been more than fifteen hours before that that he’d had a decent meal. He moved a little slow and hesitantly, and Dean winced in sympathy as he eased himself down cautiously into a chair at the table, obviously uncomfortable, but determined nonetheless.

“I wasn’t sure what would sound good to you, so I kind of got one of everything,” Dean said a little sheepishly. There was an entire spread on the table from toast and oatmeal to pancakes and biscuits with gravy.

Sam smiled his gratitude and pulled the oatmeal and one of the trays of scrambled eggs toward him. “Thank you. It all looks good.”

Dean sat down opposite him and scooted an extra large orange juice across the table. “You need to stay hydrated,” Dean said. “You drink all of that, okay?”

Sam nodded and took a long sip, sighing at the cool refreshing feeling that washed over his insides.

Dean pulled the tray of biscuits and gravy over and stabbed into it with Sam’s blessing. “So. Dad said you two talked.”

Sam nibbled slowly at his eggs, giving the food time to settle in his stomach. “Yeah. I…I asked him to take Mira home and bury her with Mom.”

Dean looked up, fork hovering halfway to his mouth. His chest felt a little tight all of a sudden. Sam was watching him, worrying at his bottom lip. 

“Was that okay, Dean? Did you want to…see her again before….?” He was stumbling over the words, throat starting to close on tears he was determined not to shed.

Dean cleared his throat and took a swallow of coffee. “No, no. That’s fine. I—did you see her?”

Sam ducked his head. “Dad brought her in so I could.”

Dean reached across the table and gave Sam’s hand a hard squeeze. “Sam, it’s okay. That’s good. I’m glad you could…see her.” He paused to clear his throat again. “So, Mira, huh? That’s real pretty.”

“You like it?” Sam asked in a small voice. 

“Yeah, I like it a lot. I’m glad you named her. It’ll be…easier, later, I think.”

Sam nodded and took another long swallow of orange juice, but just sat staring at his food, appetite dwindling away with the memory of his lost daughter. Dean got up and came around to squat down beside him. 

“Sam, I’m sorry. You know that, right? I’m so sorry. But you can’t…dwell on it. Chance and Grace need you, and they’re strong and healthy, and…there’ll be more,” Dean said, “if you want?”

Sam nodded again, a single tear slipping down his cheek that Dean wiped away with the pad of his thumb. Sam tucked a hand over his belly that was still soft and a little distended. “I do. Eventually. Just…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dean leaned up to hug his brother. “I get it. I do. Later. Maybe a lot later.”

Sam sighed in relief that Dean understood and wasn’t upset with him not wanting another litter right away. “Yeah, later,” he agreed.

Dean gave Sam a tender kiss and then went back to sit down. “Eat,” he ordered with a half smile. “You need your strength to feed my pups.”

Sam gave him a bitch-face and stabbed up a forkful of scrambled eggs. Dean smiled in satisfaction.

“Was that all you and Dad talked about?” Dean asked after they had cleaned up a good portion of all the food he’d brought back.

“Not all, but I’m not sure about the rest,” Sam said. 

“Like what?”

Sam squirmed in his seat a little. “Dad wants us to come home.”

“Home?” Dean asked with a bit of an eye roll. “Home where?

“Home to where he lived with mom when we were pups,” Sam said.

Dean froze. “He wants to go back to the pack?”

“Not necessarily the pack. He just wants to…give us some place to settle down for a while. Give Chance and Grace a chance to have what we didn’t.” Sam looked all kinds of hopeful, and it was tugging hard at Dean’s heart. “Could you do that, Dean? Do you think you could manage?”

It was getting hard enough for John and Dean to be under the same roof as Alphas before Dean mated Sam. Now that Dean had a mate and pups that his blood demanded he protect and guard against anyone and anything that presented any kind of threat, asking him to live under the same roof with another Alpha again, even if it was his father, was going to be putting him through hell, if he could manage it at all.

But part of taking care of his Omega, meant giving Sam everything he needed that was within Dean’s power, and if that meant letting Sam go back home and finish growing up like he should have done before this all started, then Dean had to try.

“He said he would still hunt,” Sam was saying. “He’ll probably be gone most of the time, and if you can’t—if it doesn’t work, he said he’d just give us the house and go off on his own.”

Dean frowned. “Give us the house?”

“Yeah,” Sam shrugged. “Apparently he never got rid of it. It’s still in his name. He just couldn’t stand the thought of living there with all the memories of Mom.”

Dean was caught between being angry that his father had deliberately kept them away from their childhood home all these years and kept them on the road when they’d had a place they could have gone to be safe and happy; and being floored by his father’s selfless generosity in giving over the last connection he had with his beloved wife to his sons and their fledgling family.

Dean let out a long, slow breath and met Sam’s anxious gaze. “If it’s what you need, Sam—if it’ll make you happy—then I’ll try.”

Sam almost launched himself across the table, crawling into Dean’s lap and nearly strangling him in a huge hug. “Thank you, Dean.” He littered Dean’s face with kisses and nuzzled into his neck, nosing against his warm skin and breathing him in deep. “Thank you.”

“Anything, Sammy,” Dean whispered against the tender spot beneath Sam’s ear. “Anything for you.”

Sam moaned a little and wiggled closer to Dean. Dean in turn ran a thumb along Sam’s exposed collar bone and bent his head to place the softest of kisses in the hollow. Sam moaned again.

“Dean, I—I can’t….”

“Shh, Sam. I know.” Dean lifted Sam up and moved him to the bed, spreading him out on the blankets. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You need to rest, but I…I just want to touch you. Please? To…remember that you’re mine. All mine.”

Sam’s eyes fell closed at Dean’s softly whispered admission and his body strained upward toward his mate. He was tired and sore, and it would be weeks if not a few months before he could indulge in the kind of passion driven desire that they’d been sharing since Sam’s heat; but every fiber of his being wanted to reach out to Dean and envelope him, suck him in and claim him as much as Dean wanted to possess Sam.

Dean stretched out beside Sam and undid the rest of his shirt buttons, deliberately laying the shirt open so he could see Sam’s swollen chest and the still soft curve of his belly. “Okay?” he asked. “Are you cold?”

Sam shook his head adamantly and slitted his eyes open to watch as Dean brushed his fingertips along Sam’s neck and clavicles, down his breast bone, circling out to massage each firmly swollen breast in turn, then coming back to graze the flat of his palm over Sam’s belly, finally coming to rest at the waistband of his sweatpants. 

Sam rolled his hips tentatively, but Dean didn’t move his hand, just looked up into Sam’s eyes and shook his head a little. “No, Sam, not yet. I don’t need that right now.” Sam frowned a little, nibbling at his lip. Dean bent and kissed him, warmly, licking softly at his lips, swiping his tongue across them in slow, gentle sweeps, but not asking for entrance. “I want it, Sammy. God knows I do, but you need to heal. That’s the most important thing to me right now.”

Sam let out a tiny sob and looped his arms around Dean’s neck, drawing him down and holding him tight. “I love you, Dean. So much. And I love our new family.”

“Me, too, Sammy,” Dean murmured past the lump growing in his throat. “Me, too.”


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few years later....

Dean heard the front door open and close and the familiar heavy thud of Sam’s book bag hitting the floor from where he was in the kitchen putting water on to bowl for tonight’s spaghetti. Those damn college texts weighed almost as much as they cost, but they were worth every cent as Sam had earned three scholarships that had so far gotten him a mere year away from his degree without them having to pay anything in tuition or fees. 

“Hey, Sam. How was your day?” Dean called. “Dad stopped by, said he wanted to take Chance and Grace for the evening, and—.”

“I know. I called him.”

Dean turned at the deep, rough texture of Sam’s voice. He was standing in the kitchen doorway, arms braced out on the frame, whipcord muscles of his biceps and shoulders tense and rippling. His eyes were feverish, lips parted and panting slightly, and he was sweating buckets under his thin t-shirt. 

Dean breathed in deep.

_Oh._

He was assailed by Sam’s thick, spiced musk, and his body responded immediately and eagerly, and it was all he could do to cut off the heavy growl that rumbled up out of his chest. 

“You have to work tonight?” Sam asked in a harsh half-whisper.

Dean reached to turn the stove burner off. They wouldn’t be having spaghetti tonight. “Not anymore.”

“Good.” Sam advanced on his brother from across the kitchen.

 At twenty-two, six foot five and a hundred and ninety pounds the kid—hell, he wasn’t a kid anymore if Dean was honest with himself—looked downright dangerous. At a distance, anyone else might mistake Sam for an Alpha the way he stalked down on Dean. He was stronger than most Omega’s, freakishly tall, and very determined to get what he wanted, but Dean didn’t mind any of that because Sam would still turn into a wanting, needy puddle the second Dean touched him, something that drove Dean positively wild, and he made sure his Omega knew it, too. It gave Sam a kind of power over him that most Alpha’s wouldn’t tolerate, but Dean appreciated his little brother’s strength. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“How long?” he asked as Sam stopped, pushing up into his personal space and breathing heavily. 

“Last night.”

“Cramps?”

“Yeah,” Sam’s brow crinkled just a little. 

“Bad?” Dean asked.

“No.”

Sam was waiting, just a fraction of an inch from touching Dean, head bent to the side, open to Dean’s first bite of permission. Dean thought about teasing him, making him wait for it, but Sam’s heart was thundering in his chest and the scent of him was getting thicker and heavier and driving Dean’s cock to a level of hard that he thought just might surpass all their previous matings—though it would be a close thing. He didn’t have the heart to make his mate suffer more. 

He lifted up and set his teeth lightly into Sam’s throat, and it was like the floodgates opened.

Sam was all over him, tugging at clothes, kissing, nuzzling, whining desperately for Dean to sate the incredible emptiness inside him that was so intense it was painful. 

They stumbled into the bedroom and fell onto the bed in a tangled heap of half-naked limbs. Sam had left his gangliness behind a few years ago, but he was still long and lean and could wrap himself entirely and effectively around Dean which was what he did now.

“Want you, Dean,” Sam growled against Dean’s neck. “Want you so bad it hurts.”

Dean slipped his hand down between their bodies, rocking Sam’s cock in his palm while his rubbed his fingers back toward his wet, stretched, slick soaked hole. Sam writhed and thrust upward and clung tighter to Dean’s shoulders. Dean let out a low rumble of approval.

“All ready for me, huh, baby?” 

Sam smirked. “Oh, yeah. Got myself good and ready. Couldn’t wait to get your knot in me.”

Dean’s cock did a miraculous thing and hardened even more at the thought of Sam frantically working himself open on the way home, gushing slick all over his own fingers as he pushed them up inside, stretching himself open wide so that he would be ready to take Dean’s knot just as soon as he could.

“Fuck, Sam,” Dean snarled, dragging his hips up between Sam’s legs, thrusting his cock into the hollow of Sam’s hip and rubbing them together. “That is so hot.”

“Thought you’d like that,” Sam gasped, grinding himself hard against Dean’s cock, spreading his thighs wider, inviting Dean to put his already swelling knot to good use and thrust it up Sam’s wet, waiting, open ass. “Now, get inside me.”

“Little fucking demanding for an Omega, Sam,” Dean snarled with a lopsided grin, and he ducked his head to nip his way across Sam’s clavicle. 

“You love it,” Sam breathed, tipping his head back into the pillows and thrusting his whole body up toward Dean’s devouring mouth.

“You know it,” Dean chuckled, low and dangerous. He reached into the night table drawer to fish around for a condom. Before he could nab one of the foil packets, though, Sam’s fingers locked around his wrist.

Dean froze. “Sam?”

Sam’s eyes were heavy-lidded as he drew Dean’s hand back. “Not this time, Dean.”

Dean frowned, clamping down on the sudden shivery excitement building in his gut. “You sure, Sam?” Sam nodded, but Dean still held above him. “Really sure? ‘Cause I don’t want this to be the heat talkin’.”

“Really, really sure,” Sam answered, stilling beneath his brother and looking him in the eye so he knew he was serious. “I can graduate mid-term with just one extra class this semester, then I can stay home with the pups when their born until they’re old enough, and then I can get a job and help you—.”

Dean dropped a fierce kiss on Sam’s mouth to shut him up and felt the deep rumbling of a laugh in his brother’s chest. He thrust up and forward into the cradle of Sam’s hips eliciting a gasp at the end of that laughter. Sam looked up at him with renewed heat in his gaze. 

“It’s time, Dean.” He twisted his hips upward, clamping his thighs together hard. “Wanna pup me up?Wanna fill my belly and watch me get big with them?”

Dean bit out a sharp curse. “Fucking hell. Been waitin’ years to hear you say that, Sam.” He put a hand between them, opening it against Sam’s broad, flat belly. “Gonna knot you so hard, fill you up good, get you big and heavy with our pups and watch you swell out with them.” 

Dean groaned fiercely, cock jerking hard in reaction to the visual he was giving himself. Apparently, it had a similar effect on Sam because Dean scented another thick rush of heavily spiced musk as Sam gushed, dripping slick over his thighs and onto the bed.

“God yes, Dean. Please!” Sam was clawing at Dean’s hips now, trying to draw him down and into himself. “Fill me. I want it, Dean. Please fill me up.”

Dean shuddered and fought the impulse to flip Sam over in that moment and slam into him, let his knot swell up big and hard, and pop it deep in his belly, and then do it all over again. The idea of getting Sam pregnant was settling in his hind brain and making his blood run hotter than it had in a long time.

“Dean?” Sam was beneath him, panting, looking up at Dean with soft, worried eyes. Dean didn’t realize that he’d stilled, pressed up over Sam, just staring down at him. “You do want it, don’t you?”

A shaft of heat spiked through Dean from the top of his spine to his toes, but it was more than just lust or desire. He swept his eyes all along Sam’s body, coming to rest on his belly. Seven years ago, they had done all this on impulse and Sam had birthed two beautiful pups, but the pain of Mira’s loss was still in the back of both their minds, and if Dean did this now they would be taking the risk of it happening again, not to mention how difficult a time Sam had had just trying to push his pups out.

But Sam was bigger and stronger now, his body was built tall and long, but incredibly solid, and he had room in his belly for a large, healthy litter—maybe four or more—and the thought made Dean pause. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it. He did. So much. But it was a serious undertaking, one that they had to be sure they were ready to handle. 

“Dean?” Sam was verging on a whimper now, body settling back into the mattress, still eager with the full onset of his heat, but damped by the stern, dark look in his Alpha’s eyes.

Dean settled down on top of Sam, shifting his weight to his elbows so that he could cup Sam’s face in his hands. He kissed Sam’s mouth, slow and tender, ran his tongue across his bottom lip, slipped between and brushed against his teeth, urging them apart so he could sweep in and caress the depths of his warm, soft mouth. He moved his hips, letting the tip of his swollen cock press ever so slightly against Sam’s opening, urging it stretch little by little until he was inside and sliding deep, held tight and hot by Sam’s spasming muscles. Sam was coming undone beneath him, restrained as he was by Dean’s weight, nearly immobilized and at the mercy of Dean’s slow, deliberate strokes that were filling him more and more with each steady thrust as Dean’s knot began swelling and dragging against Sam’s insides.

“I do want this, Sam,” Dean whispered against the corner of Sam’s mouth. “Want it so much. Want to pour myself into you until you can’t hold anymore, and then give you even more. But even more than that, I want you to know how much I love you; how much I love our family; and whether or not we ever have more little ones makes no difference to me. I want you to be happy, Sammy. I want this to be what _you_ want.”

Sam was crying now, need and want and love pouring out of him in hot, salty tears. “I want it, Dean. I swear I do, come what may. I want to give you everything. All of me. Yours forever.”

“Jesus, Sammy…” 

Dean’s knot swelled up tight and hard, stretching Sam until it almost burned, but he canted his hips up and wrapped his long legs around Dean’s back, locking them together even deeper and tighter, and groaning long and low as he came to a burst of falling stars across his eyes that whited out his vision and made him forget how to breathe. Dean was right there with him, his orgasm punching through him, electrifying every nerve ending so that it felt like only Sam’s tremendous hold on his hips was keeping him grounded to earth.

They toppled together, sealed and momentarily sated, breathing heavily, drenched in the cloying scent of sweat and slick and musk, hearts pounding in synchronic rhythm. They lay side by side, Sam curling in to make himself small and nestling into Dean’s arms, Dean stroking Sam’s back and trembling limbs and brushing his sweat-damp hair out of his face. 

They would sleep like this for a little and then do it all again, and then again over the next few days, until Sam was full and sated. Then they would wait a few weeks until Sam felt the waist of his jeans getting snug and that first deep tickle of life in his belly. He would tell Dean by waking him early on a Saturday morning and pulling his hand across his belly where Sam could already feel the distinct tumble of four tiny lives inside him and they would watch over the next five months as Sam’s belly grew— to nearly twice what it had been with his first litter—and got big and heavy and round with pups. Chance and Grace would come home every day toward the end eager and excited to know if their new brothers and sisters had arrived. 

At two o’clock in the morning on a Wednesday, Sam would start having contractions, and by lunch he would be in the floor of his and Dean’s bedroom, knees splayed, leaning over the bed, grunting long and deep with the effort of bringing the first of his litter into the world. Dean would caress and coax and urge his mate to push until a wet squirming body was birthed into his waiting hands. By dinner time, Sam and Dean would be the proud parents of a healthy litter of four—three boys and a girl—Thane Alexander, Beau Allen, Neal James, and Belle Marie.

A few years later, after Sam and Dean had decided that six was plenty and they weren’t trying for more, Sam would go into an unexpected heat and get pregnant with a single pup. The pregnancy would be hard and tiring and Sam would start having fierce contractions three weeks early and Dean would pace the floor and have to call his father again because thirty-hours of labor was too much for even Sam to handle without breaking down. They would re-enact the night Sam birthed Chance and Grace with John’s broad hands steadily urging the pup down and out of  Sam’s belly; and twelve-year-old Grace would be called in at the last minute, pale and trembling, with her small hands and nimble fingers to reach places that Dean’s big hands couldn’t go and take hold of the pup her father couldn’t birth on his own and carefully draw it out into the world to take its first tremulous breath while held securely in her and her father’s hands.

Sam would take the pup to his breast and caress her tiny face and she would miraculously open her eyes and look up at him, and he would whisper, ‘Well, hello, Mira. It’s good to see you again.’ Dean would cry openly and hold his mate and their newest addition and kiss Sam softly and swear to protect them and love them like he had done every day of his life since Sam had been born. 

The would do all that. Eventually.

But tonight they laid with each other, made love more times than they ever had during a heat, until Sam felt like he would burst and their muscles were beyond obeying an command but to sleep. Dean pulled the blanket up over them and tugged his mate as close as he could, settling his arms possessively around him and cradling the gentle roundness of his full belly and hoping for the future. He kissed Sam’s hair and nuzzled at his ear. 

“Love you, Sammy. Always.”

Sam made a soft contented sound in his sleep and turned even closer into his brother’s loving embrace.


End file.
